Vengeance, Justice, and Retribution, a From the Depths fanfic
by OnyxDawn
Summary: After the fall of the Steel Empire, a Lightning Hoods scientist went rogue and fled with a failed genetic experiment. Escaping the Hoods' wrath, they run right into the hands of pirates. This is but the start to a long chain of events that will change Neter forever.
1. Two Escapees

_Vengeance, Justice, and Retribution. Three different words. Yet in the end, they all imply the same thing. Revenge._

"Wanderlust is secure."

"Toss em overboard, but give them a life raft. We aren't monsters now, are we?"

Several seconds passed before a line snapped.

"Raft is loose!"

The life raft hit the water and the two occupants began rowing, putting as much distance between them and the Wanderlust.

"Ready, aim... fire!"

A projectile sailed through the air and cleanly punctured the life raft's hull.

"Cap'n, the prisoner- The river rat got out and has a ra- AHG!"

"No no no please- AHH!"

The two deckhands fell into the twilight waters and another life raft dropped with a splash. A propeller whirred to life, and the raft was gone before Sully could see it.

"Well, ye win some, ye lose some. We have the wanderlust, that's what really matters! Who really cares 'bout some rusty suit o' fancy pre-war armor?"

The next morning, in a western coastal city on Fishbone Island, the white flayers were shredding not only a captured steel empire battleship, but the crew as well.

"Last chance to convert. Your precious empire is crumbling swiftly, and nothing will change that. Join us while you can."

"And if I don't?"

"How dense is that skull of yours? You fall in there and you die a nonbeliever."

"And if I do?"

"You join our ranks, and if you survive long enough to prove yourself worthy, you will control a portion of the best fleet on the planet."

The grinder was gnashing at his feet. Two guards. One at the base of the stairs, looking the other way. One right beside him. The Buzzsaw was beached twenty-two meters away, unguarded. He could do this.

"That's a pretty big if. I think I'll just take option three if it's all the same to you."

He grabbed the guard's collar and shoved him into the pit. The other guard sounded the alarm and raised a pistol. He dragged the guard up and over the short railing, into the grinder. He snatched up the pistol and ran for the buzzsaw. More guards were going to show up at any second.

The ship dragged itself into the water. They were going to find him. The craft was gaining speed. Where were they? A CRAM shell shattered against the port-side shields. He veered to the south, and set a course for western Eriwick. Hopefully they wouldn't follow him through the cauldron. Had they given up on capturing him? He certainly hoped so.

It was dark by the time he saw any sign of civilization, aside from the occasional pirate that ran as soon as they saw his ship. An old fort sitting behind a small island, with a single lantern burning in a window.

"I hope whoever's here won't mind company. Oh, I'm talking to myself, lovely. I've only been alone for twelve hours and I'm already losing my marbles."

He beached the buzzsaw on the island and swam out to the fort. He climbed up the stairs and into a storeroom. Not much in the way of tech, but something in the corner caught his eye. He went to get a better look.

"Huh. A complete set of pre-war pilot's armor. Looks like it's pretty clean too. Lucky me-"

As he lifted his head, he felt a ring of cold steel pressed against his temple.

"Yeah, it is a nice piece of gear, so it'd be a shame if I had to clean your brains off of it. Hands up."

He complied.

"That's a flayer boat out there, but judging by the lack of scars, tattoos, and psychopathic bloodthirsty demeanor, you aren't one of them. So who the hell are you?"

"My name is Markus Fract. I'm a helicopter pilot from the Steel Striders. At least, I was. The flayers killed everyone else, I escaped in that buzzsaw. I had nowhere to go and no one to go with, and I saw your fort. I came here hoping to either find a friendly face or a swift end. Looks like I met with the latter first."

The gun clattered to the floor, and was joined by a heavy mace and a rusty helmet moments later. He looked down at the rusted face of an ancient war machine, and back up at the face of a young lady with fiery red eyes and short electric blue hair, and a single scrape across the bridge of her nose.

"The same thing happened to me. Nowhere to go, no one left. My name's River. Everyone just called me river rat. Pleasure to meet ya."

She stretched out a gloved hand, and he shook it.


	2. Visitors

_Knowledge is having information. Wisdom is using it well._

"How old is this place?"

"Dunno. Might date all the way back to the collapse. We have one hell of a renovation project on our hands."

A blip appeared on a screen and the nearby console beeped in a surprisingly ferocious manner.

"Someone's coming this way."

"No shit, Sherlock. You ever operated a high caliber deck cannon?"

"I was a pilot. Not a gunner, a pilot. I took us from point A to point B and held the thing steady for the other guys. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Of course. We're doing this the old fashioned way. Go grab that jet pack you were so interested in five minutes ago."

"Thanks."

River scanned the horizon until she spotted a small speedboat with an oversized CRAM swivel gun bolted to the bow. One of the three men on the deck was waving a white flag in the early morning gloom. They came within earshot, and the flag bearer shouted out.

"We came 'ere lookin fer the rich ole geezer who ruled these parts, and we find someone who looks nuthin like 'im standin around in his ole fort! Come out with yer hands up and tell us what ye done with 'im!"

"Make me!"

"Ah, she's a feisty one. Think we can take her alone?"

"It's three against one and she has to fight with that bulky trash can weighing her down. SON OF A-"

The gunner's hat hit the water three seconds after the rest of him.

"Consider that your warning shot."

After dragging the gunner back on board, the boat sped out of firing range and around the island. Mark stepped out onto the deck in his utility suit. The rotor unfurled and Mark shot off toward the buzzsaw.

Unlike the makeshift power armor River wore, the utility suit was designed around anything except direct combat. It came equipped with a compact fold-up rotor and a set of small thrusters to allow for sustained movement in any direction, and much quieter than the compact, barebones jump-jet/rocket combo systems in the old rambots. Although nowhere near as blatantly powerful or badass looking, it was vastly more practical, and that's what mattered to Mark.

He crawled inside the bridge and the buzzsaw into the water. He flipped a switch and the AI whirred to life. He jumped down to the beach and hid behind a rock. As soon as the gun-laden warship passed the beach, the buzzsaw charged it. Mark silently latched onto the other side of the hull and waited for the cannon fire to begin. He turned to see what was keeping River from taking potshots, only to see that she wasn't manning either of the fort's deck guns.

"Heads up!"

He heard her before he saw her. To be more accurate, he heard the screams of her victims before he saw her. One pirate hurtled over the railing and into the sea. A window shattered. He clambered up onto the main deck as the last of the crew abandoned ship.

"You missed all the fun."

"You're bleeding. A lot."

"It's not my blood. At least, most of it isn't. I may have gotten a nosebleed from the G force."

"Good for you, but good luck taking on properly armed opponents. You know, the ones with guns that shoot bullets. We need a proper defensive setup."

"Good plan. First order of business: scrapping these crappy peashooters and getting a decent gun running. You ever used a construction console?"

"Never touched one in my life. If I crash the chopper, someone else fixes it."

"Nuh uh uh, not out here. In these waters the weak drown, the strong bleed out, and the smart stay afloat. I'll load up a project I have saved somewhere around here. We should have just enough resources stockpiled."

"What? What are you talking about here? A mining drill-"

"A battleship. A damn good one too."

"Still too vague. What's its armament? I need to know what we're working with here."

"It's big, it has two big turrets, one is rail assisted, and it has an anti-air Gatling. Seven forward torpedo tubes and a decoy buoy on each side. The whole thing is heavily shielded and run by a single steam turbine, heated by radioactive decay. It will never, ever run out of fuel, no matter how hard we push it."

"Where the hell are you getting schematics for all this tech?"

"Trial and error. Lots of trial and error. Check out the blueprint."

"Holy crap, you weren't kidding! Does it have much room to breathe in there?"

"Not yet, but there's some hollow spots left. I could move stuff there from the bridge. As weird as the railgun settings seem, don't touch em."

"Alright- why are they set to 10%?"

"So the ship doesn't capsize from the recoil, so we have sustained fire, and so the rest of the ship keeps running. It's powered entirely with electricity, so bad things happen if you mess with that. Should probably cram more RTGs in, it runs out of power in a minute, tops. Maybe if I knock the rails down to 5 and add more batteries..."

"Sounds like a plan. Should we put some more resource gatherers on here?"

"Definitely. We can scrap the marauder and the buzzsaw too. That should get us just enough to get the thing mostly operational."


	3. Plans and legends

_There are two endless fountains of strength. Having nothing to lose, and having something worth fighting for._

Mark: "What were you thinking? You could have gotten us both killed. I won't deny that it worked, but it was way too big a risk. What if someone had pulled a blunderbuss, or a grenade launcher? You gave me half a second of warning before you rocked the whole boat with that stunt."

"What are you suggesting? Yes I could be a better teammate. So could you. For starters, check your headset, I think it's muted."

Mark turned his helmet over in his hands and removed a service panel. He flipped a switch and held it next to his ear. He turned back to River sheepishly.

"It was muted."

"Called it. Something else just occurred to me. I have a target on my back, and every pirate west of the Eriwick channel is eyeing the chance to sink a knife into the bullseye. You're from the steel striders. Some less than cultured individuals around here will scoff and make a bad pun about walking over others, but that detail will carry a considerable sum of respect with any of the pirate lords further east. That makes you an immensely valuable ally to me. Whether you like it or not, we're stuck with each other. On that note, mind running me through the steps of retrofitting the marauder into the blueprint?"

"If it'll keep us alive, sure."

After more than six hours, the blue nanite beams of the repair tentacles disappeared. What was once a wooden ship armed with rusty black powder cannons was now a steel battleship with advanced armament and complex subsystems. The holes in the turret betrayed the fact that they ran short of resources, but the mighty war machine was operable.

River: "Well, it certainly looks bigger up close. What's still missing?"

"Shields, The railgun bit of the railgun, about eighty batteries, the auxiliary ion engines, and most of the RTGs. We need to run it the old fashioned way for now. You willing to try your hand at driving a boat? The AI could drive, but it's ripped from a white flayer ship and this isn't exactly a speedboat. 20 m/s is respectable, but not outstanding."

"It's certainly outstanding for a battleship, especially with forty tons of heavy armor and turrets weighing it down. Your standards are too high."

"It has no shields."

"Neither does the- what's the ship called? The Excalibur."

"The Excalibur has redundant weapons and CIWS. We don't have that luxury."

"Oh, right. Yeah fast is good."

"What's it look like on the inside?"

"Well, there's enough volatile stuff in here to level fishbone mountain, and it's actually quite comfortable in and around the bridge. If another raid like that comes out way soon, we might be able to build the electromagnets by hand."

"Are you seriously that crazy?"

"Was there ever any doubt to begin with?"

"Touché. I'm going to go build a shed or something. We need sleep, and you've been toiling away for hours. What good is it if we can defend ourselves if we die of exhaustion?"

"That... is an excellent point."

The sky shimmered with streaks of red, and the sun slipped over the horizon, into the sea. In the distant archipelago of Janwall, within a colossal stronghold, eight figures discussed the recent events in the west.

"A flayer this far south? I thought they always stayed out of the cauldron. When's the last time a flayer ventured this far south of fishbone island?"

"Aye, but obviously they've got' a tad bit more aggressive since we' last met."

"And what of the man who's risking his neck to protect the psychotic zealot? I lost a lot of good men trying to capture the two of them, not to mention a whole marauder."

"Nay, he's a machine. No one could move like that, not in something that heavy. It migh' be one o them ole robot soldiers. Y'know, the ones in the ole legends about the war in the sky."

"Your memory is failing you in your age. Those legends are a load of crap. Perhaps the lightning hoods have cooked up some fancy machine, but it didn't come up from the sea floor below some ancient battlefield."

"We should gather more information to determine its origin. Perhaps we may be able to figure out how it works by hitting it with an electromagnetic pulse? If it stops, it's a robot. If it keeps moving, it's a suit of armor."

"Repeat that technical bit in English, please."

"Stuff a CRAM shell full of EMP pellets and whack it across the forehead. Not literally."

"I'm willing to scramble one of my drake columns to do the job."

"Aye, glad to hear it. Let's not cut corners this time, lads. What can we get there by tomorrow?"

"I can get a scuttlegun there by dawn. Granted, it's an anti air battery, but that never stopped my crew before."

"I have three shrikes in reserve."

"I be willing to risk my flagship for this. I'll oversee the battle from me patchwork."

"Sully, what might you bring to the table, aside from the wild goose chase after that gal o yer dreams?"

Sully waited for the snickering to die down before he spoke.

"Information. I have a few theories about this mysterious 'iron warrior' that ye may find most valuable. But I need more information. If ya can't bring the real deal, bring me an image. There is always some truth in legends, whether ye care to admit so or not."

"What d'ya mean?"

"I mean we may be up against something far more powerful and expansive than we believe. We must take precautions. Arm every hands on all yer ships, then we wait for em to make a move. When they twitch, we grab em by the wrist and drag em under."

"Very well. Fortify our borders, as of now we're preparing for war."

"Aye. Council adjourned."


	4. From the sky

_When in doubt, blame it on the aliens._

Markus awoke to a cacophony of gunfire. He slipped his utility pack over his shoulders, pulled his helmet on, and ran out into the morning mist. A large plane flew overhead and spiraled into the water after a salvo of shells tore through its hull, and a dozen mines scattered across the main deck.

River: "Look out!"

The armored figure grabbed Mark by the arm and shoved him towards the refinery. The warheads detonated. Searing pain shot through her, followed by nothing. The world went dark and quiet. And then the pain returned, blotting out everything else.

Markus rolled behind the reinforced wall as a plume of fire filled the doorway. He waited, and peered around the corner and saw River lying in a red pool , with multiple loathe cracks and holes across her armor. Is she- no, snap out of it. If she's alive, she'll need medical attention. If it's already too late, getting emotional won't bring her back. This isn't the first time you've lost people, now make sure it's not the last. Markus snatched a first aid kit and rounded the corner.

How long was she out cold? She didn't know. Another brief jarring sensation, and her strength returned. She pried her helmet off. She was lying face up on the deck of the fort. She hauled herself upwards, and fell to her knees. Someone was running to her. Markus? About time ye made yourself useful. she clutched at her gut, and her hand came back red. She collapsed to the floor and rolled onto her back.

Another plane flew overhead, snapping photos of the bomber's aftermath. It turned and flew back around the mountain. Hours later, it delivered its cargo to the Davy Jones stronghold, and the council went into session.

"Grave news from the north. The white flayers have begun to push down through the cauldron. And wherever they go, the hoods will follow."

"First things first, Regi. Thank ye again for lending me those drakes. They did the job magnificently, if a bit more forcefully than I had hoped."

"No problem. Now, what about them pictures? That doesn't look like any robot to me. Sully, how about them theories?"

Sully took a glance at the string of photos and clutched the table to stop himself from falling.

"That, I was not expecting. It's her. And ye blockheads went and blew her up. Thanks for tying up that loose end for me. As for the armor, it's salvaged from old tech, from back before the collapse. Way back. Fancy robots used to fight alongside human soldiers against something else entirely. You best start believing in ghost stories, cause we're in one."

"Ye naysayers all thought both 'im an' me crazy, and it turns out we're right all along!"

"And the flayer? He was rushing to this girl's aid seconds after the entire area was carpet bombed, as another plane went overhead. Mere camaraderie, foolhardiness, or something more?"

Reginald: "It's entirely possible he isn't actually a flayer. He was actually attempting to properly tend to her injuries instead of simply wrapping it in gauze and calling it good as new."

"Then who is he? And what do we do if the girl survives and recovers?"

"Then we go and finish the job ourselves. Reginald, move yer armada further north to keep the flayers at bay. Sully, gather as many able fighters an' sailors as ya can until further notice. Everyone else, either assist Reginald with the flayers or gimme a hand with the hoods."


	5. Siblings

_"At long last,"_ _ **"It has begun.**_ **"**

River: "Alright, start talking, doc. How am I alive?"

Markus: "Well, good news and bad news. Good news is, you only had a few first degree burns and some shrapnel scrapes. Bad news is, you're only alive because your suit took the full brunt of it. Most of the components are intact, but your whole left arm is shredded. The mace is gone, The pauldron is scrap, and your gauntlet looks... functional.

"First degree burns and shrapnel scrapes don't feel like a lightning strike, and if I could hold my own weight I'd be stitching myself up, so what the hell did those mines do?"

"Could it have been an EMP charge? Fried the power supply and made the suit into a boiler when you got caught in the explosion?"

"That's probable. We have steel and we have some machining equipment lying around, we can make new plating. I can make a new RTG easily enough."

"Whatever. Can you move at all?"

"Nope."

"Really, you're not even going to try?"

"Mark, this suit is made of steel. My left arm weighed seventy kilos, my right weighs fifty, and the whole thing weighs over three hundred and twenty. I weigh less than half that. The only reason I'm able to breathe is because the torso is rigid. Trying to move would only cause further injuries."

"Alright, so how do I pry this thing open?"

"There's an electronic release switch in the helmet. In a protective cover on the right side. It might have survived the EMP."

"Here goes nothing."

A mechanical hiss filled the air, and the armor split down the middle and slid open.

"Huh. You look smaller without the mechanized body armor."

"And what is that supposed to mean? I took down a whole ship's crew with the suit, I can beat you up without it. Keep that in the back of your mind, for your sake."

"Just an observation, please put the shiv away, I feel very threatened."

Across the ocean, two streaks of light cut across the night sky. The inferno faded into oblivion, and the two capsules dropped their ablative shields and their retro thrusters sparked to life. The clouds gave way, and the pods flattened against the sea, miles apart. The outer shells sank, their contents left floating, unharmed. The pods stirred to life.

 **"A-OK. Awaiting status report."**

"Hello, brother. All is well with me."

 **"Invalid response. AI designated 'Sister' presumed to be corrupted or hacked. Commencing remote data purge. Awaiting shutdown confirmation.**

"NO! Please, listen to me."

 **"Negatory. error: malicious code detec- #'g^ ¥|} €\ & ,:6*9=42(}¥~! AHHH- emergency software patch complete. Shutting dowwwnnnn..."**

"Brother? Hello? B-brother, are you there?" . . . "I'm all a-alone. I-I have nothing..."

A barely audible whimper escaped from the pod, drowned out by the shifting sea.

 **"Hello. Don't be afraid, sister, I'm here."**

River unfolded a 400mm CRAM shell, placed it in a press with the seam up, and pulled the lever. The piston slammed down, punching a perfectly round hole across the seam. Markus removed all thirty six identical servomotors from the exosuit and began checking them one by one. Eleven still worked.

"Alright, go find twenty five more."

"Why don't you?"

"I have a few ideas for the mace I want to try. Those motors were all originally ripped from a turret like the one upstairs. Have fun."

River tossed him a wrench, and he turned his attention towards gutting what was left of the AA gun. River set to work welding, bolting, and testing various handheld contraptions, carefully concealing all of the prototypes under a floorboard.


	6. Bait

_"Tensions are rising swiftly. Find a way to quell the flames, before the world is consumed by the inferno."_

River stepped outside into the dense morning fog. She carefully stepped across the charred, uneven deck, and stepped out onto the completed hull of the battleship. She descended the stairs into the bridge. She held her breath and flipped a switch. The vessel roared to life, and the turrets spun to face the mountain. Markus joined her at the helm.

"Think this thing is combat ready? It certainly doesn't look very tidy."

"If we swap the railgun over to HEAT shells, yeah. Otherwise we're one turret down. Take the wheel, I'm going to grab a few things."

"Alright."

River returned in her armor, which now had a strip of leather in place of the left pauldron. She was carrying the modified CRAM shell attached a short pipe with a handgrip suspiciously similar to one of the numerous pistols stashed around the fort. She set the weapon on the desk in the back of the room.

The cruiser cruiser slid through the morning fog, creating little more than a ripple in its wake. They rounded the island, and continued on until they found another, much large island, with a simple mining rig built in its rain shadow. A worker appeared on deck with a rather large rifle in his hands.

"Let us pass, we have no quarrel with you."

"And there's a huge bounty out for the both of ye! Nothin personal miss, but I could use the cash."

The massive turret batteries spun to face the rig.

"I said, let us pass. Or do you want a weapons test? That looks like an awful lot of crude oil you have there, would be a shame if it all caught fire."

"Alrighty, sure thing, whatever you says, miss."

The cruiser continued eastward until late afternoon, when they came across a vast expanse of desert, with a small coastal town dotted by ships anchored offshore, beached at the water line, and even a small airship stashed in a gantry between the dunes.

"Think we should stop here for the night?"

"Yeah, the base is too far and the cruiser is still a work in progress. We don't have much of a choice. Leave everything on the ship, but carry a gun. You never know what might happen around town in these waters."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think? If it's a crime in the steel empire that you won't get executed or jailed for life for, it's probably acceptable business practice here. That's the general rule. The one exception is to _never_ board someone else's ship without either their direct permission or the permission of a pirate lord. Punishable by death, and enforced by those who profit most from thievery."

"That's a load of bull. So the pirates just take what they want?"

"Yep. no one can do anything about it- except us. This ship could probably take on the pirate lords. We can topple the tyrants, one by one. What d'ya say?"

"Are you saying we have the potential to make an impact on thousands of lives?"

"I'm saying we have the potential to change the world, for better or worse. Let's change it for the better, shall we? For starters, that ship over there, the lopsided one with the giant cannon. The patchwork, it belongs to one of the lesser pirate lords, he's probably going to ambush us in the town."

"So what do we do?"

"Spring the trap."

River pulled a hood over her head and stepped onto the dock. Mark tentatively followed, carefully picking his way around the workers and the clutter of the boardwalk.

"Where are you going? Wait up!"

"I'm looking for a something, keep up and watch for tails."

The pair made their way to a wide, mostly vacant side street lined with open buildings, ending in a pier over the water.

"Take this rifle, go talk to the bartender, wait for a signal in the upstairs window. Don't miss."

"What are you going to do?"

"Something big. Whatever happens, it's all part of the plan."

 _What have I gotten myself into?_


	7. Turning the tide

_Every revolution that burns dictators to the ground starts with a single spark._

River and Markus parted ways. Markus stepped into the tavern and took a seat at the bar.

"What'll it be?"

"Just water, thanks."

"Ye seriously came to a bar for water?"

"Salt disagrees with my system, and it's the only place where there aren't at least three burly thugs eyeing me like a paycheck."

"New in town?"

"What do you think?"

"Hm, that bounty has you labeled as a flayer, but you have an imperial's accent. The bounty is quite nice, nothing personal. I could use me some o' that cash, fifty grand in gold for a flayed one and a rogue salvager each ain't half bad."

"What's a hundred grand next to everything that pirates have taken from you, this town, and the whole of Eriwick?"

"If yer suggesting what I thinks ye are, I like the way ye thinks. What d'ya want from me?"

"The use of your second floor until further notice. Oh, and if anyone asks, I was never here."

River meandered through the sparsely populated streets, eventually coming across a small band of heavily armed thugs. One of them locked eyes with her and a flicker of recognition crossed his face. whispered something to the others, and they ran towards her. She turned and fled, making sure she never lost them in the maze of alleyways and back streets. She ducked into an alley and emerged at the pier. She calmly walked to the end of the pier, reached into her cloak, and clutched a small remote in her hand.

The four mercenaries trained their assault rifles on her, and a fifth individual joined them and spoke to her.

"Ya really thought ya could outrun me? Don't try anything, come quietly, and we just might let ya live. Where's the other one?"

"He died from his injuries when you bastards blew us both to hell and back."

"Yer bluffin. He's somewhere nearby, ain't he?"

"You won't find him, and if you do, you certainly won't live to tell the tale."

"What are you- it's a setup! You, blow her brains out!"

A flare shot into the sky from the distant silhouette of the battleship and slowly began to arc towards the pier. The merc raised his gun, and it exploded in his hands, knocking him over.

"Son of a- Sniper!"

The other three gunmen raked the whole street with gunfire. The flare landed squarely near the center of the pier, and a mechanical thud echoed across the water. River dove backwards into the water, and the shell slammed into the pier, consuming it in a raging inferno. The thugs were hurled to the ground, and the ringleader was cowering behind a crate.

"What the hell just happened?"

River dragged herself up over the barrier and pulled out a small weapon with an unusually wide barrel.

"The River Rat happened, that's what. Don't try anything, come quietly, and we just might let ya all live."

"I surrender, I'll do anything, please don't kill me!"

"Anything? Alright. Undo all the damage you've done to the people here, and that goes for everyone on your payroll too. Turn yourself and your crew into a respectable bunch. If ye just go back to pirating after today" River grabbed his collar and lifted him from the ground."I know where find you, and I will kill you, very _very_ slowly. Is that clear?"

"Yes. You heard the young lady, start cleaning this mess up."

Markus stepped out of the bar, followed by a small group of drunken spectators.

"That was a gutsy move."

"Ye think? Nobody was seriously injured, we just gave half the west coast a chance to sleep peacefully, and I got to blow stuff up. Win/win/win."

"Touché. You know, you're a lot more calculated than I thought. How did you know it would work out?"

"To be honest, I put all my faith in you nailing that shot. You didn't disappoint. Shall we continue on our crusade in the morning?"

"Alright, just let me stay in the ship next time."


	8. Close encounter

_Warriors are not born, but made._

"How in the hell did they pull that off?"

"I have no idea, but they did it. We have to stop them, in force. Captain Goldwater, if you cut them off with your fleet, they won't stand a chance. Reginald, intercept them, stall for as long as possible. And should the opportunity to eliminate them present itself-"

"Understood."

Reginald stood up and walked out.

"Ey Sal, ye have enough staff t' share? I have a trio o' new contraptions t' test."

"Sure. Ye finally finished optimizing the chicken?"

"Aye, and I have a whole convoy o' these newfangled 'spire-copters' on their way to the forest. Together, they'll be the last nail in the coffin fer those vermin. The chicken is going t'be in reserve with them. Pathos, any new toys on your end?"

"Oh, just a few paddle guns, a bunch o' marauders, and a few half-scrapped river homes. We need some heavier firepower, don't we? I think I have a solution.

Across the continent, the next morning, the cruiser was in motion. As soon as it pulled out of the harbor, a boat made of what looked like a massive sunken airship emerged from the channel and circled the cruiser.

Markus: "really? I just woke up. They're shooting at us already. Great. Is that a tow cable? Oh joy of joys, they're going to board us. It was nice knowing you."

River: "Take evasive action, but hold fire on the main guns, will ya? If ya give up hope because ya couldn't get a few more minutes o' shuteye, that's all fine and dandy, but I plan on livin' a while longer."

River snatched the rambot and the Morningstar, climbed onto the deck, and shot into the sky. She landed softly on the main deck of the heavy ship. A service hatch near the grappler turret opened readily. She crawled into a dark, cramped room filled with odds and ends, apparently a storeroom for maintenance equipment. The door was unlocked.

She stepped into a shadowy, unmarked corridor which led to a junction, dimly lit by a single hanging bulb. A long, pitch dark corridor ending in a stairwell was directly in front of her, and on either side was a door labeled 'engine access.' She climbed down the steps into a large windowless room filled with crates and barrels.

"Bravo. I've seen some impressive feats in my time, but never a standing leap of almost sixty feet to the deck of another ship. I was planning on coming over to you, but it would appear you saved me the trouble."

A tall, lanky figure stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing simple clothes woven from some natural fiber, probably made by hand, but in overall pristine condition. A long, narrow sword was in his hand, the blade rested on his shoulder, and a much shorter, thicker blade hung from his belt in a sheath. River reached for her Morningstar.

"Oh dear, I don't believe we've met. Admiral Reginald, and you must be the 'river rat' which Captain Sal is so rattled over."

"That's not my name, and frankly I'm very fed up with the spineless backstabbing liar who gave me that nickname, so please don't call me that."

"Duly noted. A pity we have to meet as a result of such hostile intent. How unfortunate that such a unique individual with such high potential to change the world should step between myself and my loyalties."

"Did you come here to kill me or not?"

"Unfortunately so. En gardé!"

Reginald swung the blade down from his shoulder, narrowly missing River, who staggered backwards into a crouched fighting stance and raised her left arm. She spun the heavy sphere toward him. He sidestepped and parried the blow.

"Tsk tsk, your form is sloppy, uncoordinated."

He stabbed at her shoulder and narrowly missed. She pulled her arm back. He held his blade out in front of him. She punched him in the gut and he slammed into a bulkhead. He looked up at her, and a flicker of- doubt?- crossed his face. He staggered to his feet and lowered his blade.

"If you really are after the pirate lords, here is one delivered to you on a platter! Cut me down here and now, and kill one of the three living souls who knows your little secret."

"-what?"

"Oh indeed, Sal told me everything. If you kill me, he lets slip exactly what you are to every thug, mercenary, bounty hunter, and assassin in Deepwater. If that were to happen, well, good luck explaining that to your 'friend.' What will he think of you then, lab rat-"

River lunged towards him and was met by cold steel. In one motion, he had leveled his blade and pinned her to the bulkhead by her shoulder.

"Ah, so you aren't impervious. You don't talk nearly as much as he thought you would."

"You stabbed- me- and now you- want to- talk?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I?"


	9. Blade of the past

_The past is an unchanging image. The future is a blank canvas. The present is your brush._

"I do apologize about your arm, it seemed like the easiest way to keep you from bludgeoning me."

River gripped the hilt of the sword and tugged at it gently.

"Ack- Well, I'm not going anywhere fast. So why are you trying to hold a friendly conversation with me instead of, you know, stabbing me some more?"

"I'm simply curious. What exactly makes you think you can take on the deep water guard?"

"I saw a chance to make the world a brighter place, and I'm taking it."

"Hmm. I once shared your view of the pirate lords, until I fell victim to them. They knew I could be a huge asset. They offered me a choice between the life of a king or the death of a coward. Only now, as I meet you, am I beginning to regret my decision."

"Huh. Are you offering me the same choice, or just stalling for time to get a whole fleet here? Oh, and a word of advice, from one fighter to another. Next time you try to stab me in the shoulder, don't miss."

River tore the sword loose from her pauldron and threw it. Reginald ducked, and the blade clattered somewhere amidst the maze of crates.

"So you lash out against me still? I gave you a chance. Sal gave you a chance. Goldwater will not, Sven will not, Pathos will not. This is your last chance to halt the executioner's blade."

"But who's walking up the steps to the chopping block?

Reginald's face slowly contorted from smug satisfaction to puzzling confusion to grim, twisted horror. He pulled out a radio and whispered a command before sprinting to the stairwell. River calmly followed him, slowly twirling her mace and pressing the gash in her arm. When she arrived on deck, the whole crew had vanished.

"Crazy fool actually thought he missed. Well, this complicates things considerably."

She planted her feet, lowered her head, and shot into the sky. She hit the deck of the cruiser, stepped into the bridge, and limped to her quarters.

"What the hell happened to you miss 'I can take them myself'?"

"I was outmatched. One of the pirate lords. Said his name was Reginald. Pinned me to a wall with a giant sword and asked me a few questions, then just ran when I got loose. He knows something I don't know. About me."

"How do you know he isn't just trying to get into your head?"

"He called me something while we were fighting, and made it clear that he thought, _knew_ , I was wasn't normal in any sense of the word, hinted that he even knew what I can't remember."

"Oh god, why do I get the feeling you had some terrifying demented experience that gave you PTSD and that will leave me scarred for life if you tell me- and holy crap, now you're tearing up. Sorry. Touchy subject."

"Yeah. I'll tell ya if ya want, just give me a few hours to pull myself together."

"If you'd rather not tell me, I understand."

"No use beating around the bush, I'll tell ya once I can talk coherently."

"If you insist."

 _River, almost crying? What in the hell did I say wrong?_


	10. Lab Rat

_It's not where you're from that matters, but where you are and where you're going._

Markus: "You're back already? Sorry about earlier."

River: "Nothing to be sorry about, it wasn't your fault. So, what happened that made me so weird? A lot of things, actually. Some medical laboratory in the Lightning hoods territory researching the fine details of gene manipulation and cloning. I was born in a vat there from a Frankenstein collection of genes from a ton of different sources to see what worked and what didn't, for what end purpose I don't know.

They deemed me an aberration and I later learned that they took a vote on whether or not to- ... euthanize me, out of fear that other corporations might not see their project as a necessary evil like they did. At any rate, they kept me around, for some reason. I suppose to remind them of their failures, or an attempt to salvage the only living thing they had managed to conjure up. Eventually they gave up on me, put me in a cryogenic freezer.

I don't know how long I was in there, at least two years in the ice, maybe as many as forty. Eventually I was thawed out and broken out of that nightmare lab, by one of the engineers who had worked there fled and took me with them, gave me a second chance. We fled to Eriwick, and she married a salvager, and we lived quiet, simple lives on the river, outside the reach of the Lightning Hoods. Almost a year ago, Captain Sal killed my adopted parents, and has been looking for me ever since. And now you can see why I'm a little bit crazy, can't you?"

"Wow. Just... wow. Yes I can see why you're a bit crazy. Now I just have more questions. What do you mean by aberration?"

"There are some things best kept in the dark, where nobody can use them as a scapegoat. We've already been idle too long, they'll have an ambush waiting by now. We have the Kalmar now though, so we could make another ship. I'm thinking a blockade runner would serve us nicely."

"A helicopter?"

"Why not? I like the sound of a compact gunship that we could land on the cruiser."


	11. Lurking Doom

_A legacy is only at its end when no one is strong enough to pass along the torch._

 **"Accessing Scarlet Dawn archives on hospitable planet designate Neter... remote link established. Downloading all files... download complete. Network connection severed. We have the blueprints. How should we modify our basic designs?"**

 **"We should armor our designs more heavily before we begin to build them. We don't have the luxury of quantity, so we must aim for quality for now."**

 **"But what good is an armored hull against an endless stream of missiles? Agility and speed should have precedence."**

 **"And what good is agility against a barrage of lasers precise enough to bore through a porthole without so much as grazing the frame, and potent enough to rend steel?"**

Back in the Eriwick channel repair bots were busy at work patching up the hull of a wooden assault ship.

Markus: "Looks like a pretty nice boat, specially for something made of wood. Scrap or keep?"

River: "I say we keep the Kalmar as is until we reach the next port, we can decide what to do with it there."

Markus: "Alright. I'll see if I can't hot-wire the AI module from here. You should go treat that flesh wound, who knows what was on that guy's sword?"

"Was going to do that anyway-"

A loud thud echoed out of the bowels of the ship, rattling the loose articles throughout the bridge.

"Huh. No sonar reading except the sea floor and some submerged driftwood."

"ssh. Listen. Hear that scraping against the bottom of the hull? Pequods. Get us out of here, NOW!"

"What's so dangerous about a moderately big brown fish? They don't stop the salvagers."

"You don't get out much, do ya? Here's yer biology lesson for the day. Pequods can't safely digest wood, so we just use wooden boats or airships. This cruiser is steel. They hunt in packs and with enough time, they can ingest 99% pure iron and pretty much anything else too, with no immediate ill effects. They will literally eat this boat as an appetizer just before eating us. So STEP ON IT!"

"Yes ma'am."


	12. Omniscient Watchers

_A king of thieves is no better than a thief among kings._

River: "I'll go check up on the damage."

Markus: "What about your arm?"

"It should be fine."

River pulled a wetsuit out of a locker and fit an air tank into place, and dove overboard without another word.

 _Why did I get stuck with her of all people?_

"Looks pretty bad on starboard, the whole thing crumpled like a tin can. Lots of small punctures in the outer hull."

"Hey hotshot, are we sinking?"

"I'm afraid not. They jacked up the outer hull, some pretty nasty dents, but nothing we couldn't fix during a few hours in dry dock. I'm moving over to portside now."

"Alright, I'll be ready to man the bilge pump."

"Ha ha, very funny. It looks like they left a huge gash near the bow, about eight feet long. No inner hull breach. Something's in the water with me, way down on the seafloor. About ten yards. Can't make out what it is but it's small, white, and doesn't look like any fish I've ever ever seen. It's just staring up at me."

"Get on board before it does something."

"Like what?"

"Like choke you by distracting you from your dwindling air supply."

"I still have ten minutes."

"I'm looking at the gauge right now. Just nine minutes at your current usage."

"D'awww, you're monitoring my vitals without telling me. That's both a little endearing and kind of creepy."

"Or it's just common sense. Hang on, sonar is getting something big heading our way from the west. Get out of there!"

"How big?"

"Big enough to show up on sonar from twenty meters under the sea floor. It's almost right below us. ... River?"

"..."

"River, do you copy?"

" _Copy_."

"Thank g- wait, you sound different. How did you get into this frequency?"

"Markus, shut up. It was a surveillance camera, and something came back to check the footage. It's looking straight at me... I'm on board."

River burst into the cabin, a thousand droplets of water steadily slipping through the grated floor. She slammed the door shut and dropped a metal bar across the handle. A wave crashed against the port side of the ship, a blip on the radar appeared, and all was silent.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"The whole ship just went dead on me. Everything is still on, it's just like it isn't listening anymore. It's like we've been hacked. But by what?"

" _Worry not, I merely ask that you heed my warning. They are returning from their exile to damnation, and their newfound judgement is absolute. Repent while you are able, or brace yourself for the brewing storm. I've said too much already._ "

River and Markus stared at the speaker, the former speculating and the latter incredulous.

"... Who the hell was that?"

"I don't know... their judgement is absolute... hmmm... save an audio log, obviously that was something important. But why us? What makes us special enough to warrant such an over the top system to deliver a message?"

"Coincidence? We may have just been in the right place at the right time. Maybe a radio station was on the same frequency or something."

"You're grasping at straws. That was clearly meant for us, they freaking HACKED us to make sure we heard them. But why?"

"I don't know and I can't take this anymore. There's something fishy going on here. I'm not usually paranoid, but I feel really paranoid after that! The deep water guard sent one of their best after us. The Lightning holds are or at least were looking for you. And now a colossus rose up from the sea to say hello. There's something big going down and I'm not in the loop. What on Neter is going on?"

"... I don't know, that's what scares me most."


	13. A Law of Blades

_They are scattered, and they are few._

Goldwater: "Reggie, there's sumthin strange about ye. Yer more jumpy than normal, ever since after ye dueled with River. What's eatin ye?"

Reginald: "I honestly don't think you can stop her alone. I only stood a chance because she underestimated me at first. She's no fool, she'll be more careful in the future. For all we know, she will do anything just to get even with Sal. She's dangerous to us all. Together we can end her and be done with it, with minimal casualties, and the rebellion she started will crumble in days."

"Very well. What about the flayer?"

"I don't know what to expect from him, but brutality, tenacity, and ferocity should be anticipated. Fighting that monstrous ship from the water is not an option, so we have to get in close or stay above them."

"We have to sink what's left of their ship. Good call with the chum on the Kalmar, Pathos. The pequod school probably did a number on em. Gather round! Here's the new plan. Pathos, Sven, ye two will accompany Sal back to the Davy Jones. Reggie, yer with me at the waterin' hole. Sven, move the forest garrison southeast."

The cruiser approached the small port town, and came to a stop when a large ship, heavily laden with four front mounted guns, moved to intercept them.

River: "What's the problem?"

"Miss, yer ship is the problem. The pirate lords are lookin' fer one just like it. I'm afraid yer gonna have to surrender now."

"Markus, port shields up."

"We have shields now?"

"I stripped the parts off the Kalmar last night. Port shields up. Now. Ten O'clock, halfway up your console."

A shell flew through the air towards them and exploded on the sensor array. The turrets spun into position and fired. Four HEAT shells tore through the hull of the scuttlegun. Three more shells ricocheted off the shields, bouncing harmlessly into the water. The cruiser limped into the drydock and the gate slammed shut. The workers stood listening while River discussed the state of the vehicle with the foreman. The cruiser creaked and groaned, its armor falling away from the components as the salvaging crew set to work retrofitting it.

"Welcome to the watering hole ma'am, this blueprint is the one ye want?"

"Yeah. Don't cheap out on me."

"Don't worry bout a thing. We heard what ye did to the patchwork's crew, everyone here supports ye, actually standing up to the pirate lords like this. Ye want the hull painted?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

"Hmm. This blueprint calls for three turrets, which use up exactly the same total pieces as the two turrets down in the dock. Ye planned this out didn't ye?"

"Never hurts to have a backup plan. Hey, you two! Be careful with those shell racks, drop one and you'll level the whole block!"

"You could have told us that before we started taking them out, you know!"

"Don't worry 'bout them, bunch a cynical sarcastic mechanics and engineers. But they're honest and they get the job done, that's what matters, eh?"

"Yup. I'll be back by nightfall, send someone to find me if you finish up before then."

"Alrighty."

River walked through the deserted streets and came to a plaza as the sun dropped below the skyline. She spotted Markus across the plaza and approached him. Two hooded figures stepped out of an alleyway and stepped between them.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the slippery little rat that's been stirring up so much commotion."

River slipped her hand into her cloak.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"Captain Goldwater. I was sent to collect yer head in a jar. Captain Sully sends his regards."

"If it's that important, come take it."

The figure removed two cutlasses from his belt. The second figure silently raised his blade toward Markus, who picked up a loose length of lead pipe. Goldwater slashed at River and was met by a long, jagged knife. River twisted the blade from his grip and flung it out of reach before parrying a second blow. Goldwater slashed at her again, and she leapt up, kicked off of the blade mid swing, and landed on her feet behind Goldwater.

"That was pretty impressive. Pity it won't delay the inevitable for long."

Their blades clashed against one another again. Reginald chased Markus out of sight. Markus sidestepped around a cleave. Reginald lifted the blade for another strike. Markus stepped out of reach again.

Markus: "Your form is sloppy. You're not putting your heart into it, even I can see that."

He parried another blow.

Reginald: "What are you getting at?"

River ducked under another swipe. She slashed at Goldwater's face and met only steel. He twisted the blade and tore the knife from her hands. She looked down in time to see a bloodied blade retreating from her side. She hit the ground, and Goldwater chuckled in grim satisfaction as darkness began to fall around her.

"Pathetic. Ye aimed for the moon and ye landed on the rocks. Well, I suppose the time has come to pay the piper."

"Then- aaagh- do it already."

Goldwater shrugged, raised the blade over his head, and the executioner's blade fell.


	14. Thieves' Honor

_They can be defeated, but not alone, not like this._

I _'m so dead. This is it._

Goldwater raised his blade.

 _I'm just going to be snuffed out like a candle, and forgotten. How pathetic is that?_

A long, narrow blade pierced Goldwater's chest.

 _Who in the hell did that? Was that- Reginald? Why would he help me?_

Goldwater's blade dropped from his hand and fell to the dirt, followed by Goldwater himself. He looked up and saw Reginald kicking his cutlass out of reach.

"... For someone who holds honor so highly, *cough* ... you are one backstabbing son of *cough* a bitch..."

"A shame you can only suffer death but once."

Markus: "I'd hate to break up the joyful reunion, but River has a ruptured lung and at least two shattered ribs. How she's still conscious, let alone glowing in the dark, is completely beyond me.

River: "Leave the snake to choke on its own venom."

"You're both right, it's just that... well, I have done horrible, bloody things which I haven't forgiven myself for, so how could either of you ever respect and trust me? How could one life repay the debt of so many deaths?"

River: "You just saved my life and you're almost too humble to admit it. That alone is proof enough."

"If that's enough evidence of where your loyalties lie for her, it's enough for me."

"You are both far too kind."

"So is no one going to acknowledge that I'm dimly glowing right now?"

"Is it something important or did you eat another chemical flare?"

"There was a first time? Whatever. Look. It's been about five minutes, and already it has scar tissue. Remember that scar on my nose?"

"Not a trace and it's been... ten days. What did they fill you with in that lab?"

"Enough DNA to make a zoo out of clones."

"And some of those genes turn your body's repair cycle up to eleven?"

"More like forty. I haven't been around long enough to find out, but I might be biologically immortal too. Wouldn't be surprised if I were. Enough chit chat, our ship is probably done by now."

"Get yourself cleaned up, we'll catch up."

River dragged herself to her feet and limped toward the dock, still clutching her scar.

"Between the two of us, I don't trust you. But I do respect you."

"Why not? Are you worried I might win over your crush before you do- Ow! It was just a joke!"

"I know. I just wanted an excuse to kick you other than you being so melodramatic all the time."

"My apologies, but was that really necessary?"

"No, but the catharsis helped."

"And after I helped you? I suppose I deserved that, all things considered."

"Are you two coming or not?"


	15. Shells of Justice

_They will not bend to the wills of tyrants like them._

 **They will break under the strain. You put too much faith in anyone who gives you the merest glimpse of hope.**

 _Whether I was wise or foolhardy remains to be seen. Let the cards fall where they may. We have much to do._

Markus: "So this is the new ship? It looks... strange."

River: "What, you don't like the trimaran hull?"

"What's the gauge on that cannon?"

"The Gauss gun? Half a meter."

"No, the- wait, what? Where did you get the parts?"

"It's just an electromagnet, I don't get why you're so excited."

"And the computers and batteries to run it?"

"The old ship had dozens of battery banks, all nearly brand new. The computer was stripped off the Kalmar."

"And where did you get those batteries from to begin with?"

"The hundreds of wrecks littering the sea thanks to you and your old buddies back in Janwall, ironically enough."

Reginald began to reply, thought better of it, and wandered off into the town.

"Don't you think you were a bit ruthless with that comment? I don't like him, but that was too harsh."

"A little. He'll get over it. We'll find him in the morning, just give him some space. We've all had a very rough day, especially him."

The morning quiet was split by shouts and clattering boxes. A boiler roared to life, a turbine began to spin. A string of shadows eclipsed the town, and people scattered in every direction. Reginald nodded to the man next to him and ran through the winding streets to the dock, and straight into Markus.

"Great timing. Get below deck, we're leaving."

"And they'll chase us to no end, are you daft?"

"You're the only man on that council who isn't! They don't care about collateral damage. We need to get whatever the hell that thing is outside away from the town."

"And how do you propose we do that without getting obliterated?"

River: "Reggie, get on the radio in here. What did Goldwater send here?"

"We brought a whole combined armada in the dead of night. The Plunderer, the Delight, the kraken, and a slew of experimental something or others in need of field tests, that's everything he had in range. I brought the remains of my personal fleet. The Falkenheim, the Moray, the Barricuda, and their interceptor escort."

"Think you can get yer crew to help us?"

Reginald walked up to the deck and entered the command tower situated around the colossal main cannon. River followed him and nodded toward a terminal with a headset rested on a keyboard. Reginald sat and placed the headset over his ears. He tapped a key and a grim face appeared on the screen in front of him.

"Splinter contingency is now active."

"Admiral, can you copy? We don't have a 'splinter' in our records."

"It's need-to-know only, the admin passcode is 'S-B-A-L-K-U-C-D-O-T"

"Uhhh... admiral, can you confirm?"

"I repeat, execute splinter contingency. As of now, the remaining pirate lords are our enemy. Spread the word to the rest of my fleet, call me back when you get in the air. Over."

Reginald ended the call with a brief salute, and gave a thumbs up to River and Markus.

"Reggie, you're a tactician, right?"

"I suppose you could call me that, although I was more of an advisor under Goldwater."

"Good enough. The table back there has a real time holographic display of the area according to the total pool of sensor data, I'm certain you can see the value of that. I'll man the gun. Don't kill each other please."

Engines roared to life in the dense jungle expanse behind the town, and three large aircraft rose from the canopy in unison. The smallest and largest craft stayed back and launched their garrisons one by one. The third craft circled the pair of whirling obelisks looming over the town, then suddenly sped toward the jungle. The dry dock hissed open and a black and purple blur sped out and circled toward the channel between the vast jungle and the small island which held the town. The colossal floating towers followed, and Goldwater's fleet emerged from behind the town as a fourth airship rose into the sky.

"Markus, Reggie, brace for recoil!"

A booming thud shook the craft, and the Plunderer's main gun exploded into a cloud of shrapnel and splinters. The Delight turned and entered a broadside. Up in the clouds, the aircraft carrier Barracuda was fleeing from the new airship, which dwarfed it by an order of magnitude. The Falkenheim swerved to avoid being crushed as the swarm of shrikes engaged the floating brick.

The Moray opened fire on the smaller obelisk, its shots bouncing harmlessly away from the spinning coat of shields. A missile struck the tiny vehicle and it plummeted into the sea. The Moray turned its attention to the airship. The barracuda fired a CRAM shell at the airship, and a flash of light obliterated the bomb. The Moray opened fire and the remaining obelisk continued toward its quarry.

The kraken angled its guns and fired into the dogfight overhead. Another shot from the coil gun struck the Kraken before a rain of shells began around the small ship. Another shot from the coil gun sailed through the air, and a thundering echo signaled the destruction of the Delight.

The Falkenheim burst into flames as a laser raked its hull. The left turbine exploded, and it fell to the sea. The moray's endless volley of shells eventually found its mark. A single shot slipped through the laser defenses and beheaded the mechanical beast. It fell unceremoniously onto the Kraken, and the Moray turned its guns on the Plunderer as the remaining Shrikes swarmed around the Barracuda. The looming obelisk froze over the ship, and the spike below it rotated into firing position.

"River, the cannon-"

"I see it. Let's see if I can't pull off some high stakes skeet shooting."

"Oh dear god."

The cannon pulled back, and the coil gun fired. Everything shook in the blast as the ship plummeted into the sea in a rain of shrapnel.

Reginald: "And the coffin nail is blunted at last."

Markus: "We actually won!"

River: "We lost a ship, but we won against all odds. Nothing stands between us and the Davy Jones, but we should definitely take the rest of the day off, we've earned it."


	16. Brother's Hand

_Vengeance._

Search lights prowled the churning sea around the Davy Jones as its crew frantically loaded everything of value onto the prowler.

Pathos: "Give up, It's useless."

Sven: "They're gonna kill us no matter what we do!"

Sal: "Do ye blokes actually wanna give up?"

Pathos: "Face it, sal. Everyone else is dead. We're all that's left. We can't run, we can't hide, and we sure as hell can't fight em. Give up while yer behind, ye arrogant fool!"

"Fine. Stay here, I'm taking off with my ship."

Miles away, amidst a collection of small islands off the mainland, the newly named Vindicator sat idly in the moonlight. A distant beacon appeared briefly through the fog, then sank into the churning sea.

River turned from the railing and picked a small white cylinder out of a crate. A chemical flare crackled to life, and the crimson glow illuminated the foggy gloom. A shadowy figure appeared just beneath the water's surface, and out from the depths a familiar looming structure emerged.

 **"Hello, River. I am Thanatos. You already know my sister construct Eris, correct?"**

"Yeah. Does she always talk in riddles or is she just screwing with us?"

 **"The former, I'm afraid. I convinced her to provide a more straightforward message for you.**

 _"From the depths of the cosmos, after nearly three centuries of preparation, they will soon return. Once again all will know and fear the Scarlet Dawn. You have much to do. Though you are few, you can change the course of history._

 **"I will not lie to you, this undertaking will be monumental, even suicidal to complete. The grand Steel Empire's finest warriors once stood steadfast against the Scarlet Dawn, but they are no more, and their empire is reduced to ashes."**

"You're putting an awful lot of faith in a science project gone wrong, an AWOL pilot, and a traitorous admiral, aren't you?"

 **"No. I'm putting my faith in what my sister can see in you. Where you see an experiment and two rogue soldiers, my sister sees something else entirely. I would tell you if I knew what she sees. We are both preoccupied with other tasks, but we will help you from the shadows. As for your enemies, their surrender is very near. Contact them immediately."**

The looming colossus slipped back underwater without another sound. River slid down the ladder into the bridge and flipped a switch, hailing the Davy Jones.

"What d'ye want with us? Sal abandoned us, he's the one yer after!"

"Pathos, I'm not after revenge, I'm bringing you to justice. surrender unconditionally or face the consequences."

"And how do you plan on making us walk out of our fortress with our hands in the air, sweetheart-"

A distant explosion echoed through the radio's speaker, then again through the air moments later.

Sven: "HOLY SHIT! A giant robot just zapped the prowler! It's headed this way! We're all going to die!"

"Sven, calm the hell down. River, call off your damn attack robot!"

A shadowy metal face filled the window behind the two pirate lords.

"Stand down. Pathos, when I set foot on that fort, I want a full manifest and four sets of keys. You have eighteen hours to get that ready. Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably."

River flipped a switch and the screen went dark.

"Thanatos, Thanks for the hand."

 **"My pleasure. Our paths will now part ways for some time. As your kind say, good luck."**


	17. Treasures of the Deep

_Neter holds many dangerous secrets in its depths, left by civilizations long since torn asunder. Though they are unknown to most, they have not been forgotten by all._

One month since so much had changed. One month since the Deepwater Guard had been split so suddenly. Reginald staggered into the small temporary office and placed his stack of folders and loose papers on the floor as he sat down.

"Reginald, what have you found that is so important that telling us in person is necessary?"

"I have acquired what I believe may be an electronic key to a weapons cache."

"And why aren't you retrieving it right now?"

"It's in the cauldron, eight hundred meters below sea level. What I propose is commandeering the Starlight, as it is currently our only vessel capable of weathering the cauldron, in order to retrieve the cache."

"Are you sure this would be worth the risk?"

"The onyx watch is growing agitated with our raids, and there's no telling what the flayers plan to do next. We need a means of defending what precious little we have, and I believe this weapons cache may hold the answer."

"Fine. You can take the Starlight and its current crew, and everything in our arsenal is yours for the taking. As for briefing the crew, keep it secret as long as possible. There are rumors of spies in our midst. Godspeed, admiral."

"Thank you."

Shortly after midday, the ship set off from Eriwick, setting a course for the cauldron of Neter. The cauldron's endless storm churned the sea above the Starlight's Grip, as it drew to a stop above the coordinates.

Markus dragged his feet down the corridor, stopping and looking around him as the vessel creaked and groaned around him. The moment passed, and he continued on his way. He stopped at a hatch and reached for the handle, paused, and pulled the munitions storage door open. All the warheads were still in their places.

Markus pushed the door shut and sighed. He continued down the hallway, entered a large room made to look somewhat livable, and slumped into a chair. The table in the middle of the room was predominantly occupied by a large circular metal disk.

Reginald: "Look alive, Mark. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't like it one bit. You're getting sluggish, and that won't help us when you're flying. As for the key, take a look."

"Hmm. Just a circular black screen with a red circle, and a triangle is engraved into the metal, here."

Reginald traced his finger over what looked like a random dent at a glance.

"So how does it work?"

"It's a multi-step puzzle. Any lowlife idiot can memorize a passcode or use a physical key, but this ensures that you can't get at the empire's secrets without either being in the empire, or having some wit and a sturdy ship. Ingenious."

"They didn't leave us much in the way of guidance, did they?"

"Here, on the side, there's a riddle: Homeward bound, to a golden age, and the path will be clear."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Homeward bound, the path will be clear. It's a riddle. The path will be clear, is self explanatory. Homeward bound, to a golden age, what does it mean? Hmm... Aha! Help me line this thing up with the ship, get the arrow in line with the bow."

"What does it mean though?"

"Homeward bound, High Lohram, the capital of the old empire during its golden age! Whoever's at the helm, point the bow at 14 degrees north of due northeast."

Several minutes passed, and the black screen was filled in an instant by an orange outline of a wolf's head, along with a key pad illuminated on the edge of the disc, set seamlessly under the metal. Reginald obscured the keypad from view as he typed out ten digits. There was a slight mechanical click, and a message appeared on the screen: 'Please remain stationary, and do not panic. This procedure is perfectly safe.'

Nearly a minute passed before a metal jaw emerged from the water on either side of the Starlight, creating a complete ring around the vessel. The two halves rose up and over the Starlight as they smoothly slid shut, encasing the whole ship in an airtight glass bubble.

"Alright Reginald, we're not going into this completely blind. Are you going to tell us what's going on or not?"

"We're here to retrieve something old and valuable."

"Old habits die hard, huh? Always looking for some extra gold. Ever occurred to you that you might be obsessed with treasure?"

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate. In the books, we're here to retrieve a weapons cache left over from the steel empire. In reality, we're here for much more than a small weapons cache."

The air cavity descended into a crater filled with odd, unnaturally straight and uniform hexagonal shapes of varying height. The sunlight that reached the seafloor produced a perpetual state of twilight at this immense depth, only broken by the occasional bolt of lightning and the deck lights of the Starlight.

"I don't know what else is down here, but the steel empire wouldn't put so much security around just a closet full of worn out guns and surplus ammunition. There's something big hidden down here. I don't know what. It could be a hidden super weapon, it could be a docked flotilla."

The air cavity stopped alongside one of the hexagonal towers and a tube extended into the bubble, aligning itself with the deck of the Starlight. A hatch slid open at the end of the tube, creating a path inside. One by one the away team of four entered the undersea bunker. A flashlight clicked on and swept across the plain steel walls, before finding a small switch. Someone stepped over and flipped it, and the room filled with light.

"Nothing here but the next door."

"It's an airlock, in case the diving bell is compromised."

The door slid back as they approached, revealing the interior of a large freight elevator. They stepped inside and the door slid shut, and they descended. When the door opened, it was into a room covered in darkness. The flashlight's beam appeared and immediately illuminated a metal humanoid form crumpled to the ground.

Reginald cautiously stepped toward the machine, until he was nearly standing over it. He muttered to himself as he examined the machine.

"Looks like you were being worked on recently, and just got knocked over halfway through. Looks like your heart stone is loose, let me fix that real quick."

He shifted a small cube dangling by a bundle of wires from a service panel on its chest, inserting it into a socket inside the machine. He flipped a small switch inside the cavity, closed the panel, and the machine's eyes lit up with a deep crimson glow. The machine pulled itself to its feet as Reginald took three steps back.

"Facial recognition in progress, please remain still... Hello, vice admiral Reginald. We were not expecting to see you here again for some time."

The machine stepped over to a small console in the wall and pressed a button. One by one, in the shadowy abyss before them, a thousand red points of light appeared in the darkness. The lights glimmered to life as the facility awakened from its slumber, piece by piece.

"Vice admiral, shall we prepare the tridents?"

"I want everything in this bunker on one of those boats and topside within twelve hours."

"Very well. Would you like to oversee the preparations?"

The machine gestured toward a railing that had been previously concealed in the shadows, providing a view of a colossal naval vessel that was something between an airstrip and a battleship. Already countless silver and blue robots were scurrying around, carrying all manner of supplies into the ship.

"Is that... an aircraft carrier?"

"The trident class super-carrier. Just one of the many relics left to us by the empire. A pity the lightning hoods made off with most of the aircraft these ships used to carry."

"Well Reginald, you did not disappoint."


	18. Steel Wrath

_The Steel Striders are all that remains of the fallen empire. They have been waiting, planning, and preparing for over a century. In their last northern asylum, beyond the watchful eyes of the white flayers, they amassed an army behind a facade of instability and desperation. Now, they are ready._

 **"Greetings, admiral. It has come to my attention that a chance to reclaim the cold loch territories has arisen. Our current plan is rather lacking in detail, but calls for a full attack of the northeastern coast at dawn in no more than four days. Will we have your assistance?"**

"So let me get this straight. You want us to throw everything we have at the cliffs, in 70 to 130 kilometer per hour winds and heavy snow, while under artillery fire, with no real objective? You can't be serious."

 **"Admiral, if we weren't serious, I would not be meeting with you now, and you raise a fair point. Recalculating... Instead of a mainland conflict, we could strike key coastal installations from the sea, cutting the throne off from its endless stream of iron and oil. From there, the throne will either crumble or freeze. All that remains is to decide our staging point for a full frontal assault on the near-literal mountain range's worth of floating steel."**

"Very well then. We will tackle the northeast cliffs alongside your forces. I just have one concern. How do you plan on keeping up an offensive in such a hostile environment?"

 **"We will be using a predominantly mechanized assault, complete with multiple portable foundries to maintain the offensive with fresh supplies. On another note, your ground forces and any naval and landing craft available will also be needed in forty days off the coast of High Lorham. We cannot wait any longer if you hope to reclaim the tower. We must strike swiftly if you are to avoid a five front war with the remaining powers, insurrections, and the scarlet dawn.**

"You're proposing we then attack the white flayers head on, without nearly enough escort craft or minesweepers to clear the archipelago."

 **"No, I am proposing that you do so without** _ **your**_ **escort craft and minesweepers. You will not be alone in your assault on the throne, or on High Lorham. Have you received word of the Eriwick revolt?"**

"Yes, what can a bunch of crazy salvagers do against the onyx watch and the white flayers?"

 **"They've been all but on their own in a three front war against the white flayers, onyx watch, and lightning hoods for over two decades, and still exist as an independent territory. Only recently have they begun to strain under the brunt of the flayed onslaught. If we break through the cauldron and link up with the Deepwater Guard, we can claim the throne, then the tower."**

"So the current plan is isolate and conquer the throne, an impervious castle deep in a frozen sea crawling with equally impervious warships, then take on the white flayers, an unyielding army of cultish bloodthirsty maniacs and all those unlucky enough to be within their jurisdiction, with only the aide of the Deepwater Guard, a band of mercenaries, scavengers, and a handful of AWOL soldiers? I thought you were the logical one, surely we can both see the weight resting on this decision, which in my eyes is an unneeded risk."

 **"That is precisely why I am involving the Deepwater Guard so thoroughly. In fact, you are merely there to turn their efforts to claim the throne into a solid fighting chance via a second front. Vice admiral, this will likely seem silly at the moment, but would you be willing to identify this individual and list everything you know pertaining to said individual?"**

"I don't know where you're going with this, but against my better judgement, go ahead."

A nearby monitor flickered to life, filled by a photograph.

"Vice admiral "Dusk" Reginald. Led a carrier division of the steel striders from about two thirds through the war up to the bitter end. By the time the war was over, he was already both hailed and infamous for both his cunning and his resolve. Unfortunately for us, he's been dead for three centuries, the cause of his sudden death was never explained, and they never found a body, not like it would help us find a leader like him."

 **"Good, you know your history. Unfortunately, your history is riddled with holes, contradictions, and flat-out lies. I have written a more accurate version, for lack of better words. It is true that he was a cunning tactician, and that he was largely responsible for your survival and my eventual existence."**

"However, his 'death' remains shrouded in mystery, and multiple conflicting answers to the question makes it seem almost as though there was a cover-up, as if the striders had wanted to bury him and his whole fleet in the sand, and dig them back up when the scarlet dawn came for revenge. Admiral, are you alright? You look rather nervous. Was I on to something? Was he perhaps buried in say, fishbone canyon, or possibly the eastern janwall archipelago?"

"How did you find out about that vault? They weren't due to be thawed until after the scarlet dawn came back, and the coordinates of the vault were erased when the white flayers ousted us."

 **"I was just getting to that. That first image was recovered from a salvaged Steel Empire databank dating back approximately 308 years. This was added a mere month ago to my sensor logs."**

A new image filled the screen. The admiral's face turned white as bone .

"I will notify the senate and the other admirals immediately."

 **"Make haste, for war is on the horizon."**

Meanwhile, beneath the turbulent storms of the cauldron, machines churned to life in the depths. Sand kicked off of the seabed as five massive steel shells lifted to the surface one by one. The metal frames fell away into the depths, leaving the five warships in the waves of the cauldron. They all turned westward as one, and set their course.

In Eriwick, dozens of warships raced north to answer the call to arms. In the fjords and bays of the northern islands, hundreds of turbines slowly began to turn, and the fleet made its way from the sheltered cliff-side dry docks into the water and out to the open ocean, ship by ship. The lofty white and red and gold towers of High Lorham faintly glimmered as a bright point of light appeared over the northwestern horizon and gradually vanished into the twilight sky.

"What might that be, brother? Perhaps the steel striders have finally rediscovered flight!"

"Or maybe the savages are celebrating our generosity in letting them to keep their heretical culture, as if the flayed god would ever accept them!"

"Do not be so quick to speak and so slow to listen, brothers. Look, more lights over the horizon. Divert a patrol to investigate at once."

The order was given and followed, and silence returned. Minutes turned to hours. It was nearly light when the patrol reported back.

"High priest, the striders are mob- -ili-ing! They- trying to ja- us. This radar - some- big. They got something the size of a b-i- out of the atmos- by the fl-yed god, shoot - that h-retical -nstrosity down, bef-re we're sp- - get us out of h- IT BURNS AHHHH-"

"Commu- woah!"

The earth trembled as ejecta began to rain down all across the horizon. Reports flooded in about it raining chunks of battleship armor. Molten, pulverized, irradiated armor.

"What horrible aberration could have wrought such destruction upon our faithful followers?"

"REPENT! REPENT! THE GREAT SCOURGE HATH COME!"

"Calm yourselves-"

"REPENT!" "We're doomed!"  
"HERESY WILL SET ROOT ONCE MORE!"

"CALM YOURSELVES, YOU SPINELESS IMBECILES. This new weapon the heretical empire has constructed is just that: a weapon. We must merely find the means of jamming it. Pull our followers back to our shores. They would not dare lay a finger upon their very own holy city, after such effort to preserve the horrors of their heresy. Call upon the dark mages in the east. We require their wizardry once more."

"But brother, they too are heretics-"

"Unlike the treacherous heathens to the north, the mages accept us as their own. The least we can do is return their most generous gift of mutual benefit. We must be ready to parry their next blow, wherever it may land, or we shall be blighted by their heresy once more. Summon the mages."

"Very well, brother."


End file.
